As soon as the three stepped into the Forest of Death, they could feel the aura of death surrounding them.
"Let me go! We're going to die, we're really going to die!" Dismašk shrank in midair, trembling all over.
Even Garon felt a slight sense of danger. The box on his back opened, releasing a dark light. To Dismašk's astonishment, the Dark Chisel Constellation Cloth disassembled and began covering Garon piece by piece.
"A black…metal armor…"
"This is the proof of a Saint Seiya—the Cloth," Maelion explained.
"The Cloth…"
"That's right."
"Lord, be careful!"
It seemed Maelion hadn't noticed at all that several shadowy, mud-like beings behind him had coalesced into humanoid shapes, preparing to pounce on him.
Yet, just before they could touch him, several golden beams of light pierced through them, dispersing them back into formless sludge.
"What was that? Superpowers? Golden beams of light?" Dismašk stared in shock at Garon, who had his right fist raised.
"Lightspeed Fist. Once you attain the Seventh Sense, your punches surpass the speed of light. It's a fundamental technique of Gold Saints," Maelion explained casually, unconcerned by the previous attack.
"But… didn't you say Garon is a Silver Saint? How can he use a Gold Saint's technique? Didn't you say Gold Saints are the strongest?" Dismašk, now less fearful, found himself reassured by Maelion's unwavering confidence and calm demeanor. His gentle smile gave Dismašk a sense of courage.
For the first time, Dismašk felt that Maelion's Cosmos was warm and filled with hope.
"That isn't absolute. Though rare, Saints can advance in rank. However, there are only twelve Gold Cloths in existence. While Garon is a Silver Saint, he was once acknowledged by a Gold Cloth. In the end, though, it was his elder brother who became the Gemini Gold Saint…"
As Maelion led the two forward, he continued explaining.
"I see…" Dismašk nodded, then, almost provoking a Lightspeed Fist from Garon, added, "So, Garon was just a backup choice, huh?"
"You little brat!"
"Hahaha… Though not the best way to put it, it's not entirely wrong," Maelion chuckled.
"Lord…" Garon looked at him with grievance.
"But remember this, Dismašk. Garon is Garon, and Saga is Saga. They will never be anyone's replacements. No one is dispensable. Each of them is a unique existence in this world—just like you, Dismašk."
Dismašk was momentarily stunned. For the first time, Maelion's presence appeared grand and radiant to him, exuding warmth and divinity.
Of course, his pride wouldn't let him show it. Turning his head away, he muttered, "Tch… Don't think you can…convince me just like that…"
Maelion and Garon exchanged a knowing smile. What an unadorable brat.
"But, Lord, I think we need to deal with this first, or we won't be able to move forward." Garon swept his gaze around. They were completely surrounded by vengeful spirits.
"Yes, pitiful souls. It's time to return to the Underworld and begin anew." Maelion stepped forward, clasping his hands together.
The moment he did, his Cosmos emanated a vibrant life force. To the vengeful spirits, it was as if food was calling out to them. They lunged forward like ravenous beasts.
"Lord!"
"No need to worry. Shackled souls, be free—[Guiding Reincarnation]."
Clap—
Maelion brought his hands together, releasing a soft golden glow that spread throughout the entire forest. The light was gentle, not blinding, but filled with warmth. The moment it touched the spirits, they released black mist, melting away like snow in spring.
As their original forms returned, they bowed deeply to Maelion before departing toward Yomi, the realm of the dead.
"T-This! What is this!?" Garon and Dismašk's eyes widened at the scene before them.
"He… Is he truly a god?"
"This is Lord Maelion… This is our Lord God! The husband of Lady Athena—The Earth Father God, Maelion!"
Their hearts swelled with fervor as they gazed at Maelion's divine presence.
—
The scavenger elder who had previously warned them stood frozen, his spoils of war slipping from his grasp unnoticed.
Then, eyes filled with excitement, he hastily straightened his tattered clothing before falling to his knees, clasping his hands to his chest in reverence.
"The god has returned at last… The warriors of the Earth have risen once more… The ancestral prophecy was not a lie…"
—
As the light faded, all the vengeful spirits within the Forest of Death had vanished. Though the land still felt lifeless, the overwhelming aura of death and malice had dissipated.
"Hah… As expected, that was quite exhausting…" Maelion staggered slightly, nearly losing his footing.
"Lord! Are you alright?" Garon immediately supported him, worried about the strain such a large-scale technique had placed on Maelion's yet-to-be-fully-restored strength.
"I'm fine. Just a little tired. I'll be fine after resting."
"Lord… Was this really worth it? What if…"
"Garon, did you see their smiles just now?" Maelion asked.
"…I did."
"Then it was worth it."
"…Yes, my Lord."
Dismašk, standing to the side, was momentarily stunned. He made an internal decision but couldn't shake a sense of regret—this forest was dead. Even if there were no more spirits, it could never be restored…
Wait! This Cosmos—!
He moved to a nearby tree, punching through the dead trunk, and stood there in shock.
Because inside the hollow trunk, a tiny green sapling was growing—a small but determined sign of life in this lifeless forest.
"This is…" Dismašk extended his senses, discovering many other faint but resilient traces of life throughout the area.
Unconsciously, the corner of his mouth curled slightly.
Seeing this, Maelion nodded in satisfaction. His plan had worked. The events just now had deeply affected Dismašk, clearing away the last shadows of doubt in his heart.
"Let's move forward," Maelion said.
"Yes, my Lord."
Dismašk didn't respond but obediently followed behind them into the depths of the forest.
—
At the forest's center lay an abandoned village, its heart occupied by the ruins of a castle.
"This… This was once Hades' castle?" Garon murmured as he gazed at the remains.
"It seems so. Even now, I can still sense Hades' lingering Cosmos. Alongside it are the remnants of Thanatos, Hypnos, the Specters… and the fallen Saints who perished here."
The ever-present smile on Maelion's face faded slightly, tinged with sorrow.
"My Lord," Garon stepped forward. "Fighting for you, for Lady Athena, for the love and hope of this Earth—this is our mission as Saints. The moment we donned our Cloths, we accepted our fate. Please, do not grieve. This is our duty, our honor."
"I believe in you, Garon—just as Athena has always believed in you all." Maelion smiled once more before stepping into the ruins and spreading his arms.
With his Cosmos, he unraveled the ancient seal.
BOOM—!
Beams of light shot into the sky, one particularly golden glow standing out. Garon and Dismašk focused their gaze, recognizing the forms of the artifacts.
A pair of colossal golden claws. A silver crossbow.
"What… is that? Why… does it feel so familiar…" Dismašk murmured, instinctively reaching out to touch the golden claws.
The moment his fingers brushed them, he was repelled by an invisible force—a force that carried a clear sense of… disdain?
Yes, disdain. Even a hint of scorn.
In contrast, all the artifacts vibrated joyously at the sight of Maelion, like children reunited with their father, expressing grievances over their imprisonment.
"Hahaha… That's the Claws of Cancer, the sacred artifact of the Cancer Gold Saint. A bit mischievous, but a good child nonetheless."
"Tch! I'll become a Cancer Gold Saint someday! Then I'll make sure to scorn it back!"
Maelion laughed heartily, leading the way forward.
"Lord! Wait for me!"
"Slow down!"
As their bickering faded into the distance, the journey continued.